Stuck in the Middle with You
by Kayka
Summary: Rogue finds herself in a tight spot and the enemy of her enemy is… Sabretooth. This is bound to end well. Victrie.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** X-Men is yet another thing that is not mine. I'm just here to poke dubiously at established plot, shred it into itsy bitsy pieces, and disregard said pieces entirely whilst finding new and exciting ways irritate and/or torture this pair of unlikely companions.

**A quick note on setting/timeline:** So, the movieverse is a mess these days. I'm going to call this "Movieverse: X1 and X-Men Origins: Wolverine compliant" and AU after X1. Some elements (but not direct story lines) from the other movies/comics/general Marvel universe will come into play and be reworked to suit my own nefarious purposes.

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

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><p>Victor Creed was having yet another shitty day in a long line of shitty days. This would definitely be the last time he free-lanced for Magneto; that man's batshit crazy agenda just wasn't worth it when you ended up effectively dead and defenseless. No matter how temporarily.<p>

Boats didn't exactly make for a soft landing, but with being blasted off of the head of the Statue of Liberty, the water would have been like smashing into concrete too. Plus there would've been the whole drowning factor, which was a bitch to come back from.

And then _they_ showed up while his spine was fucked, and he couldn't lift a damned paw against them. The fuckers jabbed him with something before packing him up on a gurney and driving off under the guise of an ambulance. Victor passed in and out of consciousness during the transport, his healing factor now working over time on two fronts. He felt fairly lucid by the time they stopped less than an hour later.

The entire way through the sterile facility, Victor memorized the route, working out his plan of escape. They made it too easy. Sloppy. No effort to blindfold him or nothing.

He was mere seconds away from ripping out the throat of the nearest tech wheeling the gurney. From there, eviscerate a few scientists, take out a few guards and he was home free.

Victor's fingers twitched to life an instant before the damning ring of metal snapped closed around his neck.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

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><p><em>Three Mile Island, Six years later<em>

Marie bolted through the door of the abandoned facility as shots rang out overhead. In retrospect, this _might_ have been a stupid idea, especially carrying it out at night.

Alone.

But this defunct base had been her best lead- Now, however, her pursuers were hot on her tail, and she would just have to bemoan the fact that she never got the chance to nose around as intended later. If she made it out, that is. She needed to get back outside, but several wrong turns later found her further underground than before in a room filled with cages. Or what was left of them. If those slashes told her anything, it confirmed that Logan had definitely been here once upon a time.

The figure dropped down in front of her so swiftly that Rogue almost did not have time to divert her course. She swerved, managing to land a kick to the hulking man's midsection before she found herself jerked up to his eye-level by her collar.

"A week of surveillance and you manage to fuck everything up in one night. I'm starting to sense a pattern," Sabretooth growled at her.

Legitimately _growled_.

His hair was shorn in a cropped, militaryesque style. He'd ditched the furs she remembered for fatigues and a long, dark coat. Perhaps the most notable change, aside from the fact that his pupils weren't blown, and his eyes were a steely blue, was the collar around his neck. Funny, she hadn't noticed it in their brief run-in a few weeks prior.

"Nice necklace ya got there, Sabretooth."

It probably was not best opening line to throw at her once captor and current knight-in-a-big-black-duster. And in a more sane universe, she would have turned tail and run straight for the people shooting at her. But Rogue's universe was not precisely sane, and by all accounts the feral man was her best bet of getting out of this little mess alive and unincarcerated.

Marie knew it was beyond presumptuous to think he would help her, but fortunately, he seemed come to a similar let's-work-together conclusion. Or, more likely, the giant of a man figured that he could deal with her after their mutual enemy was neutralized.

The ensuing action was brief, and they worked together surprisingly well. It was almost like having Logan at her back-

She drew away from the painful thought as she finally managed to incapacitate her enemy without getting any particularly nasty wounds or additional personalities for her trouble.

Ultimately, Sabretooth took down three of the soldiers to her one. But then, he had not exactly needed to dodge bullets if he didn't feel like it. She thought she was doing good to get off with only a few scrapes. Plus, her target was merely unconscious whereas his were rather graphically eviscerated.

And just like that, it was over.

Marie stood awkwardly for a moment while Sabretooth picked at the remains and swore.

'How to properly form a temporary alliance with an enemy and subsequently dissolve that alliance without getting yourself killed' was not exactly covered in the X-Men training field guide. The Logan in her head eloquently told her to 'just get the fuck out of there while he's distracted, kid.' But he had essentially been saying that from the moment she set foot on the property, so, the woman didn't count that personality as especially helpful at the moment. Aside from that, she was pretty sure that there was blood spatter on her clothes from the feral's less than clinical take-down methods.

_Ick._

But those soldiers couldn't have been the only ones on patrol. Marie knew she had stumbled onto something bigger than just a defunct base that Logan once went to looking for answers.

The Wolverine was missing and one of the places he'd been in the past few years was under what appeared to be fairly recent military surveillance.

Mental Logan was right. She needed to get out of here, but maybe this would be enough evidence for the Professor to send a team out to help her.

Before she followed that line of thought further, Marie's eye was drawn back to the metal ring around Sabretooth's neck. Rogue had never been one to let matters drop, especially when she felt she could do something about it. And her assistance might make them even in his eyes.

"No, really. It's some kind of inhibitor, isn't it? I've never seen a metal one before. Do you need help getting it of-"

"This goddamn collar's the only thing standin' between me and ripping out your throat!" Sabretooth snarled and lunged at her before collapsing back with a roar.

"What the hell!?" The young woman jumped back into a defensive stance and worked off one of her gloves. If it came down to it, she was reasonably sure she could drop him before he could make good on that threat.

"Still so eager to get me out of it, sweetheart?" His tone was bitter. He rose, shaking his head as it to clear it.

_Okay. No more talking about Mr. Kitty's necklace. No-ted._

Marie eyed the large feral warily and the moment passed. His limitations obviously did not extend to his enemies; he took out those soldiers without any adverse effects, but Rogue thought it best not to test her tentative safety.

"I was just trying to return the favor since, well, you know." She gestured vaguely to their former enemies. "And nobody deserves that," she pointed to the device. "Not even you."

"Maybe I like you owing me. Now, scram, frail." Dismissal. He accentuated his point by breaking the neck of the one soldier she had neutralized.

Despite her vague abhorrence at his ease with act, Marie found room for blossoming irritation.

"Didn't wanna thank you anyway, asshole." She muttered under her breath. He undoubtedly heard her but did not deign to acknowledge it as she turned heel and made her way back toward the exit.

She wished she had time to do a bit more snooping, but the longer she stayed, the more likely it was that she would have more soldiers breathing down her neck. This being an unsanctioned, self-imposed mission meant zero chance for getting timely back-up.

Her whole case was circumstantial, but this little trip was enough for her to believe that her suspicions were confirmed: Logan hadn't just gone off for some more soul searching without telling anyone. He had been taken.

She turned the handle of the door, or rather, she attempted to- the construction did not budge. Marie narrowly resisted the urge to bang her head against it.

Without a word, Sabretooth strode over and wrenched the door off its hinges. Marie couldn't decide if it was chivalry or a keen desire to be rid of her.

_Not the time to look a gift horse in the mouth_, she thought.

Rather than return to his task, the man fell in step beside her.

"Shouldn't we do something about them?" Rogue asked, in reference to the slain soldiers they were leaving behind.

She caught the clench of his jaw out of the corner of her eye.

"No point, now. We got ten minutes tops before the cavalry comes in. Might wanna put some pep in your step, kid."

She followed the man only because he seemed to have a better idea of the layout than she did. He _could_ be leading her into a trap, but she didn't think so. He had as much motivation to get out of there as she did, if not more. Within two minutes, he had her back at the main door to outside and freedom.

Marie didn't think she would be able to make it off the island and back to her car within the estimated eight-minute time frame, though. And she really did not feel like a swim in the river.

Sabretooth spoke, jerking her from her musings over polluted river water and how nice it would be to have a useful mutation, like the ability to fly.

"What're you doin' out here all alone without the GeekSquad, anyway?"

"What are you doing here, yourself?" Marie countered stubbornly.

"My job. Now _you_, on the other hand-"

What was she doing in an old, half-destroyed nuclear power plant that had obviously once served as a cover for some government facility? If his senses were anything like Logan's he'd smell if she was lying. Sabretooth was a feral, after all.

And Logan, well, it was all his fault she was out trying to find him with only half a clue where to start looking in the first place.

Wolverine had been gone from the mansion for nearly a month. That in itself was not so unusual for a man near constantly searching for clues about his past. The unusual part came from the complete lack of contact from him for the past three, going on four, weeks.

He'd never quite condescended to get a cell phone, but he kept the X-Communicator handy, and even occasionally remembered to check in and let her know he was alive. Now the device was dead and untrackable. But then he had never checked in _this_ time to begin with.

No one else seemed to be worried about that fact. Jean just told her that the batteries had probably run out or he had otherwise damaged it. He was not the most careful of creatures when it came to technology after all. Logan would come back eventually and Marie would see that she had worried for nothing.

But Rogue had a feeling in her gut that they were all wrong. And she trusted her gut more than she trusted the team when it came to the Wolverine. Normally, Marie could read when he was getting ill-at-ease with X-mansion life, and this time, he had shown none of his usual tells that he was about to cut and run.

They all just woke up one day and he was gone.

Kind of like how the team didn't exactly know she was gone looking for him. Or they might by now, but that was a secondary point.

Anyway, she didn't think her erstwhile enemy needed to know anything _that _specific.

Marie slowed down a bit, starting to feel a stitch in her side.

Their brisk pace had them covering the expanse of the parking lot. Unlike her, the feral was apparently ballsy enough to park on the property.

"Logan's gone, and I'm-" Marie stumbled forward; her vision blurred, "I'm-"

Sabretooth's brow furrowed as he reached to steady her. She was having trouble focusing and her own labored breathing seemed abruptly loud to her ears.

"You get hit?"

"I- Uh- _Oh_," Marie replied intelligibly, as everything went black.

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><p><strong>AN:** There is a tangential one-shot related to this story called, "Boo," which you can find on my profile. It's not terribly necessary to this fic, but it's there if anyone wants a bit more elaboration on their previous, recent encounter. Until next time!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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><p>If he were smart, he would have ditched the kid immediately. Left her to fend for herself. Worst came to worst, she could've drained the bastards. Or been shot. It shouldn't have made any difference to him.<p>

If he'd been smart, he definitely would have left after she dropped from whatever they dosed her with.

No one had ever accused Victor of being smart, and keeping the X-Geeklet with him while going on the run ranked as the most not-smart thing he had done in recent memory.

Well, barring the time he'd brought a toddler to a gunfight, but _that_ wasn't his fault, and he dumped the girl off on a startled weather witch the first chance he got. Unscathed at that.

But _this_. _This_ was a lapse in judgment, no two ways about it.

If it hadn't been for his damned curiosity and the fact that those soldiers had it out for her before she ever stepped foot on the property…

Victor scooped her up and stashed her in the passenger seat.

He found the source of her affliction as soon as he buckled her in- a scrape on her arm. The one she'd fought at close range had been a mutant, but she probably didn't know that at the time. The scent he picked up made him lean toward poison as the culprit.

_Better than dealing with a bullet wound, _Victor thought, _less blood in the truck, at any rate._

Maybe he'd fix'er up, satisfy his need to know her end of it, and send her on her way. His good deed for the century or some shit.

Which lead to the second stupid thing he did that day. He touched the Rogue's bare skin.

Victor held on for barely ten seconds, just long enough for her mutation to activate and keep her alive until he got them wherever they were going. She was still grayish, but her breathing was better as his borrowed healing started to fix the damage and unparalyze her muscles.

He barely even felt woozy.

That was a lie; he was achy and nauseated and felt fucking mortal for once, but he got the truck moving all the same.

He sped off immediately, cutting the lights as soon as he was outside the glowing haze of the city.

They were not obviously followed, but that didn't mean anything with his collar still active.

The tracking was spotty and limited in range. It turned out that Secondary came with some unexpected shielding interference. At least _that_ worked in his favor, but if the bastards got lucky and picked up a stray signal, they'd be on'em in no time.

They would expect him to immediately head north and make a break for the border. He had made no secret of his plan to ditch the states and head for Canada once his contract was up.

And that was exactly why he was headed west.

His handlers knew very well his connection to the Island. Even after all this time, they still thought he was some dumb animal and wouldn't make connections.

Those soldiers that he eliminated were the Organization's own. Victor had figured that out on the first day of surveillance. Then there was the info he found on the corpses. Well, he didn't need to have all the pieces to the puzzle to figure out the big picture.

If they were going after the goody-goodies it wasn't like they would live up to their end of the deal when it came to him, neither. An immortal collared assassin? They'd have to be fucking stupid to let him go on his own merry way.

The whole thing was rotten, and the animal in him had an opinion about being bound up a minute longer. But Victor was practical. He intended to play along with their little game until they released him. At least that had been the plan. If nothing else, he always kept his word- but they had broken theirs, and by his logic, their contract was null and void.

Too bad they wouldn't see it that way.

They would see that he killed their soldiers and colluded with their target. The fact that they set it up was immaterial.

Victor needed to disappear, at least until he could get the collar off.

As soon as he came to this conclusion, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He flipped the phone open and the directive, 'Bring female in for questioning,' flashed up at him.

And that cinched it.

"Well, fuck, there goes my pardon. I hope you're happy, frail." He said to the unconscious woman next to him. Four more years of being the government's clean up crew, and he would have been a free man, the contract he was press-ganged into signing paid in full.

As far as government gigs went, it had not been so bad. Better than Stryker's team after Jimmy left, anyway. They'd even fixed him up a bit in the beginning rather than experimenting on him like Stryker did. Matter o' fact, his blood lust had not peaked since they latched the goddamned collar on his neck. Though whether that was due to his line of work satiating it or some aspects of the thing actually working was debatable.

He'd been expecting a set up from the minute the US government got him under contract again, and he was fairly surprised that they hadn't done it earlier.

The phone buzzed again. 'Return to base immediately. Two hours,' the text read.

Victor rolled his eyes. "Like you don't already have your hounds after me."

He crushed the device and threw it out the window before speeding up again.

The house in New York was out, Chicago probably, too. But Minneapolis seemed abstract enough a destination, and Victor was reasonably sure that the government goons didn't know about his holdings there.

And from there he would get to Canada and the fuck away from people for a while. Eventually.

His frail pining for peace and quiet and clean mountain air was interrupted by a pained moan from the woman beside him.

The kid was a liability. The sooner he sated his curiosity about her and figured out her angle in this whole little fiasco, the better. Then he could ditch her or kill her.

Saving her only to immediately kill her felt wasteful, especially when she wasn't a half bad brawler and had his back when it counted.

He didn't want to contemplate that maybe the real reason he picked her up was because she was the only tenuous connection to his brother.

But it was more than that. He felt… invested. For the first time in years, Victor felt the animal rearing its head paying attention to _everything_. It was pissed when he confirmed his suspicions. Even more so after he found the orders that marked her as a target. They had lured Rogue there somehow. Merely thinking about it made him want to rend and kill them all over again.

His reaction was surprising.

_Nah, probably won't kill her._

The idea of killing to get James' attention lost its savor a long time ago. And if the dumbass had run off, it wasn't like he'd be paying attention anyway.

If he let the girl go once he was done with her, the runt might even appreciate the gesture. Well, he might if he ever remembered who he was, and at over twenty years since he forgot, that was admittedly looking less likely.

He felt the twinge of the collar activating. The fact that they turned it on before thirty minutes had even passed meant they didn't have a clue where to find him.

_Good._

The mental aspect of the collar had never quite worked the way that they intended. Sure, he followed their orders, so they thought they had him under lock and key.

Too bad the lock was faulty and the key was busted.

What they never understood about him or his mutation was that Victor Creed was adaptable. Keep shocking him and sooner or later, the shock would barely even tingle and it sure as hell wouldn't stop him.

He had been testing the limits of the collar from the minute they slapped it on him after Liberty. It minimally suppressed his mutation and was supposed to prevent him from targeting allies and civilians. They could only keep it active for so long, and once he was out of vicinity of their network, it was little more than an annoying weight at his throat.

Thoughts of taking off the collar didn't even register with the device anymore, and in the beginning that had downed him a few times before he figured ways around it. If it had been some kind of regular metal, he'd have busted out of it years ago. Now that his most likely avenue of cooperation leading to its removal was a bust, there were always alternatives.

He glanced at his passenger as she moaned and shifted in her uneasy sleep. Maybe he could use her to get the Wolverine's attention after all.

If he could get into the runt's good graces for a few minutes, or if that failed, incited the man to fight him, Victor was sure the smaller feral could slice off his little problem with those adamantium claws of his.

With new a plan forming in his mind, Victor took the next deserted road into the mountains.

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><p><strong>AN:** I wrote this fic during NaNoWriMo, so on the plus side, there is a rough draft for the vast majority of it. On the not plus side, revising said draft is a nightmare and sometimes chapters, like this one, get hacked to pieces and end up on the shorter end of the spectrum. The next chapter should hopefully make up for it.

**Next time:** Rogue wakes up, and Victor is a firm believer in sticky notes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

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><p>Marie pushed herself up in her seat, groaning in commiseration with the newest roaring presence in her head.<p>

Several muddled moments later, she more or less boxed up her most recent mental hitchhiker and finally registered her surroundings.

Truck. Woods. Night. _Sabretooth_.

_Passed out_ Sabretooth.

She nudged the man with her gloved hand. He grumbled but did not wake. So, he wasn't dead, though whether that was a good or bad thing remained yet to be determined. She did not take him for a deep sleeper, but if the newest personality taking up her mental real-estate told her anything, it was that he wasn't so much asleep as drained.

Sabretooth had saved her. _Twice_. Or kidnapped her. Maybe both.

What ever happened to her to make her drop like that had to be bad if he'd decided to share his mutation; he'd seen what it did to Logan after only a few seconds. Sabretooth had definitely held on for longer than that.

Blind altruism didn't fit his character, so, he must have a reasonable motive. True, she watched him with Clarice at the carnival several weeks ago; he had been so careful with the little girl even before she decided to intervene, but she had trouble reconciling the Sabretooth that had worked with Magneto with the one now occupying the driver's side of the truck bench.

Not to mention her brain space.

Marie had no idea where he had taken her, and her newest hitchhiker was none too obliging, either.

'Safe.' Was all she could get out of the part of his consciousness she absorbed.

She only hoped it was the same night and that she had not lost a day in between. Rogue must have been out a while because whatever she might have borrowed of his feral senses had already faded.

Her regular old human sense of touch told her she had something stuck to her forehead. She reached up and pulled the square of paper off. The great and terrible Sabretooth apparently kept a stash of readily accessible post it notes.

He'd left her a note, not that she could read it in the dark.

_How oddly considerate_.

Though, for him, sticking paper to a person's forehead and not killing them probably _was_ being considerate.

She did not particularly want to wake him up before she gathered her wits, but she didn't want him waking up and surprising her in the dark either. She searched around until she found a switch. She tapped it on, and the truck cab was bathed in dim light. The man beside her didn't stir.

'Stay put, kid.'

_Of all the officious-_

She crumpled the paper and let it drop to the floorboard.

The woman wondered if all feral mutants felt the need to be overbearingly in charge like that. It didn't really matter because Rogue had zero intention of lingering a moment longer. A glance out the window stayed her impulse to jump out and storm off into the night.

_Common sense is a bitch._

She didn't know where they were, and she lost her communicator somewhere between being chased by soldiers and ending up in the woods with a dangerous feral mutant. She still had her bag, which was better than she could have hoped for, under the circumstances. Her cell was safely tucked away in the dash of her car, now possibly hundreds of miles away. Somehow, she needed to get in touch with the team and let them know what was going on before she got in any more over her head. That looked like it would have to wait until she got back to civilization.

The surroundings were dark, but she could make out a building in front of the car. A cabin? Maybe a ranger station? Whatever it may have been, it seemed abandoned.

Like everything else in her life, the sky decided to not cooperate when she needed it. The night, or perhaps early morning by this point, was overcast and threatening rain.

She cracked the door and heard howling in the distance. With the way her day was going, if she didn't get chased down and attacked by coyotes, then it would probably start pouring before she made any headway back to civilization.

She pulled the door closed and reluctantly set up camp to wait it out until morning.

Marie's stomach grumbled some minutes later as she debated the merits of pushing her companion out and taking his truck.

With a bit of rummaging, she found some jerky in the dash and tore into it, uncannily reminded of that first ill-fated truck ride with Logan.

This was nothing like that, and Sabretooth would be fine if she left him.

_But he didn't leave you_, the more charitable part of her mind insisted.

She was wasting time- valuable time- in finding Logan. Hunger somewhat sated, she realized how tired she still was. This whole borrowed feral metabolism thing sucked.

So far, Sabretooth was keeping her alive for a reason. If she ditched him now, not only would he be pissed and probably hunt her down, but she would never know why.

The choice was ultimately taken out of her hands as at that moment the man groaned and slitted his eyes at her.

"You all healed up, frail?"

"Think so," Marie replied, regarding him warily. "What happened?"

"Mutant soldier. Poison."

Well, that explained why everything had locked up on her and why the effects did not immediately appear in the thick of the fight.

Sabretooth cracked his neck and rubbed a massive hand down his face.

"Shit, frail, you pack a wallop," he groused.

Marie bristled at the man's tone and responded before her brain fully engaged and thought better of it.

"Stop with the fucking 'frail' bullshit," she growled.

Okay, maybe Sabretooth's personality was _not _as faded as she initially thought.

"Having some trouble there, kid?" He sniggered.

_Ugh. Kid. _That was a demotion if she ever heard one. Not that 'frail' was any better.

"No," She insisted stubbornly, ignoring the continued purring taunts of her newest mental roommate, "Now, if you'll get us back to a main road, I'll just be going."

"I don't think so."

Marie's stomach dropped. She started working off one of her gloves, just in case.

"You have some questions I need answered first," he continued.

"What makes you think I'm gonna tell you anything? You just _kidnapped _me," Rogue accused.

It was like flipping a switch. He didn't make any moves against her, –_yet_- but his entire aura screamed danger.

"I just went through a whole lot of hell to make sure you made it, and as far as I see it, you owe me. Next time, I'll remember save myself the trouble and let you die."

That was a fair point, and this was probably the only way she would get some explanations of her own.

"What happens once you got your answers?" She hedged.

"You can scurry back to Fuckthatville to your merry little band of dimwits," he paused, considering, "The X-Men don't even know you're gone do they?"

She did not bother answering that particular question; he'd already worked out that truth for himself.

"So, you'll let me go?" She asked.

"I'll let you go," Sabretooth affirmed.

Marie crossed her arms, her back wedged against the door.

"Alive?"

He rolled his eyes. She knew she was pressing her luck and his temper, but she didn't trust him not to be squirrelly when it came to his keeping his word.

"Alive. Since I'm feelin' generous."

His offer seemed almost too good to be true, but he wasn't lying as far as she could tell. Marie's eyes narrowed, lighting on the feral man's metal band. He had not wanted her to stick around before and even tried to scare her off. But the collar was his weak point, she realized. As long as that collar was around his neck, Sabretooth was, if not effectively harmless, then impaired.

_That didn't stop him from killing those soldiers_, her rational mind pointed out. And whoever saddled him with the collar could probably track him by it.

"You didn't want my help, before," the young woman pointed out. "How do I know-"

"If I'd'a wanted you dead- _really_ wanted you dead- you'd be dead, sweets. I wouldn't've even had to lift a hand to do it, neither. Those soldiers would've done it for me."

He let that sink in before continuing.

"Now, I want to know why you were at the Island in the first place."

"I told you." Well, that might be a bit of an overstatement. She could not remember what or how much she had tried to tell him. "Logan's gone, and I'm trying find him."

"If you were lookin' for him there, I'd say you're about a quarter century late."

_How would he know? Unless he knew Logan before, of course. _She filed that tidbit away to explore later.

"I didn't really think he would be _there_. I was retracing his steps," It was the first place Logan went when the professor started trying to help him regain his memories back when he first joined the X-Men, but Sabretooth didn't need to know that. "I'm talking abducted kind of gone."

If she had not been so accustomed to watching for Logan's responses, she would have missed the subtle clenching of Sabretooth's jaw. Rogue idly wondered if it was a feral thing or just an odd quirk they had in common.

"And what makes you so sure he ain't run off? Seems the type."

His tone was oddly bitter.

"He goes off on his own plenty," she shrugged, "That ain't exactly out of character, but this time was different."

_Might as well lay all the cards out on the table._

"I got a lead. I just needed to check things out at that plant first 'cause he's been revisiting places he's been. No one else at mansion is worried, but even Logan has habits. This time doesn't quite match any of the other times he's picked up and left."

Sabretooth gripped the steering wheel.

"'N where's your lead, sweets?"

"Canada," she muttered. Marie knew he heard her, regardless. Everyone else thought she was being, if not outright ridiculous, overcautious.

"Let me get this straight, you wanna go into Canada in the middle of November? And where in your brain is this a good idea? Because I can tell you it sure as fuck isn't."

She felt Sabretooth's borrowed anger simmering at the surface bubble over and become her own.

"I don't care what you think. Logan's been kidnapped. I'm going to find him, and you're just wasting my time."

Heedless of the reasons why she had remained in the car previously, Marie wrenched the door open and stormed toward the cabin. If she were exceptionally lucky, there might even be a pay phone.

Rogue barely made it ten feet before the feral blocked her path.

"Look, I've been real damned patient so far." He laid his hand on her shoulder to keep her in place. She felt the prick of his claws even through her jacket.

Marie swatted the man's touch away. She felt more than heard the low, warning rumblings emanating from her own chest.

He eyed her speculatively before backing off.

"You always this aggressive, kid?"

"No, but _you_ are." She knew her tone was accusatory, but she didn't feel like getting into the intricacies of her mutation.

"And I don't have you fully integrated, yet," she clarified.

The same thing had happened when she absorbed too much of Logan the night she had been so sure that she was going to die at Magneto's hand.

Nowadays, she could get the personality itself under wraps in no time flat, but the tendencies, traits, and _urges_ took much longer to unravel from her own. That was the only other time it had happened to this extent, but apparently, it had not been an isolated case.

"Get in the car," Sabretooth ordered.

"Why?"

She was raring for a fight at this point, even though she knew taking on the mountain of a man in front of her would be beyond stupid. She would end up either hurt, killed, or with an even bigger dose of him than she already had.

"Seems to me like you got a runt to find, and we better get on the road."

That threw her off enough to clear her head of some of the red haze.

"Sabretooth-"

"Stop fucking calling me that. Name's Victor. Victor Creed."

He thrust out his hand, daring her to take it.

Marie was unsure if that was his version of a friendly overture.

"Well, you can call me Rogue," she replied, pushing past him and making her way back to the vehicle. She slammed the door behind her.

He climbed back in on the driver's side.

"Contrary little thing, ain't ya?"

Marie shrugged and stared at his reflection in the window, refusing to look directly at him. He winked and grinned at her, letting her know she was not as slick as she thought.

"This is how it's gonna go down: you're going with me, and we're going to find the runt and bring him back. Understand?"

"No," she huffed. "You said I could go after I answered your questions. I answered your questions."

"I never said _when_. I'll let you go. Later."

It could take her ages to get somewhere to contact the Professor on her own. Her best bet was probably to sit tight and go along with him, at least until she could come up with a better idea. It was a point in Sabretooth's- Victor's- favor that he believed her when she said Logan had been taken. That was something that she would still have convince the rest of the team of in order to get them moving.

_I can't believe I'm actually considering this._

"But why are you doing this? I don't believe for a second this is out of the goodness of your heart."

Victor tapped a claw on the metal band around his neck.

"Does that mean you're housebroken?"

If he was going to drag her around regardless, Marie sure as hell wasn't going to hold back on the cheek.

She expected some sort of enraged outburst, like earlier when she first brought up the device. She found herself somewhat disappointed when he just chuckled. This mellow Sabretooth was weirding her out.

"I want the damned thing off, brat. And you're going to get the Wolverine to do the honors."

* * *

><p>Her scent was overlaid with his own when her temper rose. It was fucking bizarre, but he <em>liked <em>it. The animal rumbled its agreement.

He had never stuck around before to see how the Rogue's mutation played out. Victor knew she drained energy and powers and that those faded over time. He vaguely remembered reading something about personalities in her dossier, but at the time, he'd never intended to let her lay an ungloved finger on him. So, he didn't give it much thought.

But now, he saw the other side of it.

For her to take on her victim's personalities, well, he'd be the first to admit that a little southern chick with an attitude, _his_ attitude, too big for her britches was an entertaining sight.

He wondered what the personality aspect entailed- what all she got from him. Making sure she didn't know things she shouldn't about him was yet another reason to keep her close.

Of course Jimmy would go throw a wrench in things and get himself kidnapped leaving it up to Victor to bail his ass out. Some things never changed despite time and estrangement. His plans had not changed, really. Just altered a bit. He headed for his safe house, crossing the border into Ohio some time after sunrise.

His passenger didn't go back to sleep even as the murky night bled into a drizzly dawn. He wanted to get at least halfway to Minneapolis by night, but steering clear of the main highways made the ride slow as hell, even without the stops the frail would inevitably demand of him.

They would have to stop for gas and food soon enough.

So far, the Rogue made for a decent traveling companion. She seemed to appreciate his preference for quiet and didn't fiddle with the radio after he set it. She stared out the window, and he drove. Just the way he liked it.

There was no news about either of them them being wanted, so the Organization was keeping it under wraps. He had no doubt that once they got desperate enough, the story would 'leak', but for now, they were safe enough making their way through the general population.

Out of nowhere, the woman started giggling before covering it with a cough.

"The fuck's so funny, sweets?"

She pulled a bottle of water from her bag and sipped at it before answering.

"Just remembered a documentary I saw on the saber tooth musk deer."

It was some kind of weird reference to him, and they both knew it.

"A _deer_?"

"I was bored," Rogue shrugged.

"I think you need to go the fuck to sleep," he replied.

"You _asked_. I think Clarice was right though. You're like a cat. One of those big predatory ones," she gestured offhandedly.

He felt her eyes scrutinizing him, and damned if her scent wasn't odd again.

"The fuck you starin' at?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Just spill it. I probably won't gut you."

* * *

><p><em>Well, that's reassuring.<em>

"I was just wondering about your tongue. Cats have those little barb things like sand paper."

She really was bored and had too much time to dwell on things that made her stomach clench in dread. Things she could not change at the moment. So, she started thinking up silly things, and her mind went to all sorts of strange places.

The tense atmosphere drifted away as he eased the death grip he seemed to have on the steering wheel.

"Seriously? I could kill you six ways to Sunday, and _that's_ what you wanna know about?'

Before she could blame her inanity on too little sleep and too much stress, Victor had invaded her personal space. His coarse whiskers brushed up against her an instant before Marie felt a long, rough tongue swipe up the side of her neck.

Liquid warmth pooled low in her belly, and she felt the involuntary flush burning across her face and down her throat.

Not like sandpaper, but not smooth either. Somewhere in between. The best adjective that came to mind was 'rough', which suited the feral perfectly.

_That should _not_ be hot. Logan's gone missing. Logan's gone missing. Focus on that. Anything but Vict- Sabretooth. Him.  
><em>

Victor hadn't even swerved the truck during his brief little foray into misapplied intimidation. The contact had been so brief that she had not even had time to activate her skin. Nor had it activated on its own, as it usually did when she was surprised.

She chanced a glance over at him, her face still burning somewhere between turned on and mortified. The bastard was completely unaffected beyond his self-satisfied, smug, knowing grin.

"Happy now, kid?"

She refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

_Kid. Freaking 'kid.'_ If ever there was anything she hated being called that simultaneously got her wayward hormones under control, he'd found it.

* * *

><p>For a brief moment, Rogue smelled tantalizingly like <em>desire<em>, and it took everything he had in him not to slam on the brakes and investigate the scent more thoroughly.

But then her posture changed, her scent spiced with ire, and he couldn't figure out exactly what he'd done to piss her off. The woman huddled in on herself and huffed before determinedly glaring out the window.

She refused to look at him, and that suited him fine. It made it easier to reign himself back in.

Victor had some problems of his own. New ones. Lately, he seemed to be making stupid, impulsive decisions.

Sure, he wanted to mess with the kid. Just a little bit. See what she was made of that had his brother so interested in her in the first place. Maybe see if he could provoke her. That wasn't so stupid.

No, the stupid thing was giving into temptation and tasting her. And he never accounted for the fact that she might_ like_ it, however briefly.

As soon as his tongue first registered the sweet-salty taste of her neck, Victor knew he'd made a mistake. But it was in his nature that if he was going to fuck up, damned if he wouldn't fuck up big time. So, he followed through.

For the first time in ages, the animal rose to the surface and pressed against his restraint. Victor felt something click into place as he realized that he might be saddled with this woman for a lot longer then their little joyride, whether either of them wanted it or not.

She moved again, now content to ignore him by staring straight ahead through the windshield. He caught a motion- a glint of silver sparkling out of the corner of his eye registered an instant before he realized what had garnered his attention and agitated him on a baser level. He welcomed the red haze that rose within him, turning his sight full black.

* * *

><p><strong>Next time:<strong> Marie needs brain bleach, not that she doesn't appreciate the view.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

><p>Sabretooth was staring at her again.<p>

If she hadn't spent years dealing with Logan, she might have been intimidated. Especially that morning when she first spied the black, fathomless gaze that betrayed his feral nature coming to the forefront.

That_ had_ been unsettling- okay, she had been scared shitless for two-point-five seconds- because she swore the intensity of his seething approached the visible spectrum. But then nothing happened. When nothing continued to happen, and he drove without any further comment, the young woman relaxed. Marginally. She didn't think he had any designs to her detriment at the moment, and really only their approaching-civil banter from before had abruptly stopped.

Which was probably for the best because she did not need to go do something stupid like start making eyes at _Victor Creed_.

At some point his eyes shifted back to their more human hazy gray, but the furtive glances continued. Along with the occasional low growls, but they weren't the imminently threatening kind, so she didn't pay them much mind.

He was still staring at her when they stopped for lunch, and it was getting on her absolute last nerve. Finally, seated at a small table outside a fast-food joint, she cracked.

"Do I got something on my face, sugar?"

"No," he replied before taking another big bite out his burger.

Of course, he wouldn't just come out with it. Why would her life ever be that easy?

"Then what'd I do to piss you off? You keep glarin' at me, and I don't think I can stand days of tippytoeing around your ego. So, just tell me, and I won't do it again," Marie huffed.

_Okay _that_ growl sounded annoyed. So much for trying to be the bigger person_.

"You've got something I need to see."

He didn't elucidate further, but his palm up, outstretched hand clearly meant she was supposed to hand something over. Regardless of whom she'd absorbed before, Rogue _was not_ a mind reader. She probably would have been glaring balefully at him forever had her inner Creed not decided to pipe up.

"_How 'bout that shiny little collar you got of your own, sweets."_

She furrowed her brow, confused for a moment before cottoning on. She tentatively fingered the chain at her neck, and that did catch his attention. "Logan's tags?"

"Yes, _Logan's_ tags," Creed replied snidely.

_Is _that _what his deal is?_

She kept them safe under her shirt ever since the man disappeared. She knew how much they meant to Logan, and she had given them back to him ages ago, after he kept his promise and came back the first time.

But then they suddenly popped up on her nightstand the day after he went missing. They weren't there until _after_ she left her room that morning, and Logan had been long gone by then. That's when she knew something was amiss. She didn't think he would have just left them, and he did not do that sort of thing by proxy. The feral's latent personality agreed, not that anyone else seemed to think anything of it. In fact, Scott had taken it as evidence that there was nothing to worry about.

It creeped her out to no end. Jubilee sneaking into her room to filch a top was one thing, but someone getting past the security system_ and _the resident telepaths was something else entirely. Needless to say, she hadn't had a decent night's sleep since.

"Take'em off."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Victor growled.

"Yeah, I heard you, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna just hand them over. Give me one good reason."

The growling increased in volume, and she could see his claws lengthening. It was foolish to be so protective over a scrap of metal, but Marie refused to bend on this.

"I don't want your fucking tags, frail. I need to see if there's any scents to pick up."

That was actually a good idea.

"Oh," She replied, immediately more obliging.

"See, if you'd just said that in the first place, this whole conversation could have been avoided." Marie said, handing him the necklace. "We need to work on your people skills. I'll be teachin' a class on 'please, Rogue' and 'thank you, Rogue' all this afternoon."

* * *

><p>Victor ignored the woman's sass and held the warm metal to his nose. As he expected, Rogue's scent clung heavily, and underneath that he caught the fainter scent of his brother.<p>

It had been a good enough reason to get the tags away from her; he distinctly remembered the damned things nearly hitting him in the face during his last scuffle with Jimmy. So, she couldn't have been in possession of them too long.

That didn't change the fact that when he'd said it, his reasoning had been bullshit. Victor felt jealous pure, and simple. It was stupid; he _knew _it was stupid. He barely even fucking knew the woman, but this was a matter of instinct. The cat had decided that he was interested, and the tags _rankled_.

Then, a tertiary, elusive scent caught his attention. It was so faint that if he hadn't been at least making the appearance of looking for it, he might have missed it entirely.

Looked like they would actually have someone to track, if Rogue's Canada lead was sending them where he knew it would- straight to the base at Alkali Lake. His grasp on the scent was tenuous and that irritated him, but it was slightly better than tracking cold.

Victor didn't want her to put the Runt's tags back on, but he had too much pride to admit it. He could always make an excuse to keep them; maybe even see if he could get a rise out of her.

Against his own conscious volition, he leaned forward to scent her neck, finding the same barely-there traces he'd found on the tags. The girl sat absolutely still, but he detected no fear in her scent, even when he scraped his teeth against the delicate skin. She was far removed from the frightened teen he'd been hired to track and secure.

"_Creed_."

She'd grown into her backbone, for one.

Victor pulled away abruptly and dropped the tags back around her neck, sparing an admiring glance at the twin pink welts he'd left. Seeing a mark of his own appeased the beast somewhat.

"Got a scent," He told her.

"And?"

She crossed her arms, her jaw set in a stubborn tilt that screamed annoyance. She was faking it, though. At least partially. His nose didn't lie.

"Don't know it, but it's a mutant," Victor idly carved into the table with a claw, "Maybe feral." He shrugged.

"But what would another feral mutant want with Logan?" Rogue asked.

"The fuck should I know?"

He had planned to leave it at that because it really could be anyone. Who knew what fucktard Jimmy had gone and pissed off this time? But the odds that the Wolverine went missing, and a few weeks later the Organization just happened to decide to take out an X-Man and nullify his own contract in one fell swoop were slim, at best. And if _They_ had something to do with it-

"But I'd wager someone wants both you n' me out of the picture. You're a target now, too."

* * *

><p>Creed's disclosure bothered her for the rest of the day. It wasn't hard to figure out why someone would be after <em>him<em>. He was wearing a collar, for God's sake, and it sure wasn't the kinky S&M kind. All she had done, on the other hand, was try to find Logan. And accidentally help him kill some soldiers. Okay. That definitely wasn't good and might have landed her on someone's radar, but it wasn't like they hadn't been trying to kill her, too.

The sun dipped toward the horizon, and Marie didn't feel any closer to the 'finding Logan' bit than she had before she got mixed up with Sabretooth. True, "Canada" was as nebulous of a goal as "Alaska" had been once upon a time. She had a rough idea of where the base she was interested should be, but with driving down the back roads of middle America, and Creed actually _obeying the speed limit_ it seemed like they would never get there. The man seemed to be under the impression that they were being actively tracked and was avoiding the interstates at all costs. She was starting to think she would have been better off getting back to New York and appropriating the Blackbird.

"Are we gonna drive through the night? 'Cause if we are I don't wanna ride with you on no sleep. We should trade off. I know how to drive a stick," Marie volunteered.

No need to point out that it was secondhand knowledge.

"I bet you do." He muttered.

Marie's nose scrunched as her newest mental bestie graphically translated the lewd double entendre.

"Ugh. Real charming, Creed. At this rate we'll have to extend your etiquette classes."

"And what makes you think I ain't perfectly happy being a crass motherfucker?"

After spending some time trying to coax what ever she could from the reticent persona in her head, she didn't really believe 'crass' quite fit him. He _acted_ like a boorish bastard, for sure, but Victor Creed definitely wasn't stupid.

"I'll bet you can be the real charmer when you wanna be. And even if you're not, I have tons of experience dealing with fussy toddlers," Marie quipped.

He rolled his eyes and didn't rise to the bait.

At least he was in a better mood than he had been earlier in the day.

They ended up stopping for the night at a little motel just after sunset. Marie was dying for a shower but figured she would let the man still spottily covered in long dried blood have first go of it. Both of them looked like they'd been through the wringer, but out of the two of them, she appeared the less worse for the wear. Plus, she was stiff, exhausted, and pleased to get out of the truck and move about freely for a while.

"Well, I dunno about you, but all this riding around has me starvin' half to death. I'm gonna go grab something. You want anything, Creed?"

The man grunted in something she assumed was assent, based solely off her years of deciphering Loganese. Not that she would ever mistake him for Logan beyond the superficial similarities.

Victor had paid for the room, so the least she could do was pick up supper.

She didn't really like having to share a room with him, but she was too tired to argue against it. She knew she wouldn't sleep deep in a strange bed, anyway. Creed was dangerous, no doubt, but so was she. But really, at this point, it looked like she was in more danger of forgetting herself and jumping the feral's bones than him outright attacking her.

At least there were two beds.

"Right then, I'll be back in a sec," she called to his retreating back.

In reality it took her almost twenty minutes to grab something from the diner across the way. Juggling the food and the key, she managed to make her way inside. About two steps inside, to be precise.

The air in the room was close- contrasting markedly with the cool, fall weather outside- because _someone_ didn't see the need to turn on the fan when he took a shower. But that wasn't what stopped her.

The steam from the bathroom billowed out into the bedroom because the bathroom door was _open_, the tub in her direct line of sight, along with the figure perched on its edge.

Marie was confronted with a _very naked_, very _cut_, freshly showered Sabretooth.

For an instant, she stood speechless because _that _was not the sight she expected to see upon her return. There was a persona or two, _Logan_, in her head that voiced their disgust. But Marie, on the other hand-

_Hot damn, Christmas's come early._

"Oh. My. God," she blurted, rooted to the spot.

Unwillingly, she drew her eyes from his abs up to his face and_ of course_ found him watching her.

Victor smirked, dragging the tiny towel through his hair, heedless of the _very_ unclothed lower portions of his anatomy.

The man had _no shame_.

Marie snapped back to reality.

"Would it kill you to shut the door?!" She screeched, backpedaling back out onto the walkway.

"What's wrong, see somethin' you like?" He called after her.

The old couple she had passed moments before gave her an odd look as she hastily jerked the door shut.

She pressed her back against the door and considered breaking into the truck and sleeping there, instead. She wouldn't; she knew: the promise of a real bed was far too tempting. Rogue would have to suck it up and try not to let the man get to her.

The dangling plastic bag at her arm weighed heavily as she mustered the shattered remains of her dignity and inched the door back open to peek inside.

The bathroom door was blessedly closed, no Victor in sight.

She settled herself on the first bed she came to and flipped channels aimlessly while she ate. He still wasn't out when she finished eating, and she wondered what the hell he was doing in there.

If she had hoped the man would come out clothed, Rogue was sorely disappointed.

She looked_. Of course_ she looked. It was simply reflex. And she got more of an eyeful than she had before. She heard herself let out an undignified squeak.

_Now, that's just embarrassing. _

Marie pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Maybe, if she pushed hard enough, she could temporarily blind herself. Not that it would do anything for the visual now branded into her brain. Even if it was a damn nice visual. Objectively.

"_Why_ are you still naked?"

Marie pressed her forefinger and thumb against the bridge of her nose to stave off the impending headache. Plus, it gave her a good excuse to keep her eyes closed for another moment while she pulled herself together.

"I ain't sacrificing my comfort for your stupid sense of propriety. I sleep naked. Get over it."

She stared determinedly at his face. Nowhere below the neckline. Nope.

"But you're not asleep _now_," Marie complained. Apparently, 'fussy toddler' hadn't been too far off the mark. This was some sort of revenge for earlier, she was certain of it.

"Damn, you're right."

Then he stalked much closer than Rogue felt comfortable with. She found herself pressed back against the headboard, with an infuriatingly smug Sabretooth kneeling over her.

"What's wrong darlin'? You're acting awfully flustered."

* * *

><p>The girl acted all embarrassed, and was definitely flushed. <em>Huh.<em> Victor wondered at that for an instant, until her scent wormed its way up to him.

_Well I'll be damned._

The girl was hot for him.

Making a snap decision, he grabbed the plastic bag off of the central nightstand before leaning in to whisper in her ear.

"Now, if you'll be a doll and get off my bed so I can eat my dinner, I'd be much obliged."

He nipped at the lobe, unable to resist teasing her a bit more.

"Please, Rogue. And thank you, Rogue," Victor said, leaning back and dangling the bag in emphasis.

Her delicate brow crinkled as she eyed him distrustfully. She was confused.

_Good._

This game was too much fun- and definitely the most interesting thing to happen to him in years, and he didn't have any intention of ending it prematurely. But to that end, he needed to get her the hell away from him before he had a chance to rethink that.

"Go take a shower, kid. You stink."

He grinned toothily at her, and she glared at him. Her annoyance wasn't feigned this time.

The woman jumped off the bed and stormed past him. If he didn't know any better he'd think she was more offended at being called 'kid' than being told that her clothes smelled like carnage. If it was a sore subject for her, he was positive Jimmy had something to do with it.

She called him every vile name she could think of under her breath, grabbed her bag, and disappeared into the bathroom. Victor stole the bed and tucked in to his dinner.

His plans for the Rogue had shifted a bit. When he'd taken it upon himself to bring her along she'd been little more than a curiosity and a liability, and now he wanted to get into her pants.

He yawned and figured he might as well turn in for at least a cat nap.

If he didn't have the damned collar, his healing factor would have healed him enough that he wouldn't need to sleep at all for days.

Victor twisted and turned, in effort to get remotely comfortable on the too-small bed. The fact that the bedding smelled like her was a shade from torture, but it helped to mask the irritating scents of the room's previous occupants.

Yes, his plans had shifted, but not changed. He'd help her find his brother, finally get free of the damnable collar, and maybe enjoy her company along the way. The fact that it would rile Jimmy was just an added bonus. For once, Victor fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

><p>Marie slung her backpack down on the sink counter, and pulled out her spare clothes. No way she was gonna flounce out in her customary nighttime attire of a pilfered guy's t-shirt and undies in front of <em>him<em>.

She wasn't even sure why she was so annoyed. Maybe it was because she had never ever suspected Sabretooth of being a playful tease, much less having a sense of humor. Maybe it was because of the scratches he'd left at the juncture of her neck and shoulder earlier in the day that had _still not gone away_. Every so often, the metal beads of the chain would catch one and-

"Ugh!"

Was she really so hard up for human contact that Sabretooth was looking like a good option for companionship?

At one time, touch- or the inability, rather- would have been a valid excuse, but she had control of her skin now. Most of the time. It was a work in progress, but she could touch people without killing them, if she had a mind to.

One thing was for sure: once this was over, she was going to take a vacation far, far away from annoying, confusing, feral men.

His wet clothes were strung over the towel rack to dry. She washed the stains out of her own as best she could before laying them out beside his.

Marie was woefully underprepared for a trip to anywhere cold. Her backpack held a few changes of clothes, and she had her light jacket but that was it. She knew she should have planned for 'just in case I don't get back to the mansion,' but there was nothing for complaining about it now.

She'd have to convince Creed to stop somewhere so she could get a few things, but that would mean having to actually talk to him. And after whatever it was that had just happened, that conversation would amount to one too many bizarre Sabretooth encounters for one day. She'd do it tomorrow; it wasn't like she was up for going anywhere else tonight, anyway.

He was asleep or feigning sleep when she emerged from her own shower.

Despite her surety that it would take her ages to fall asleep in her jeans, not to mention being a few feet away from a known killer and sworn enemy of the Wolverine, she was out like a light as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

><p>The night passed uneventfully, or Marie assumed it did when she woke up before dawn the next morning to a hand at her shoulder and a pair of gray eyes hovering above her.<p>

"Holy shit!" She ineffectively jerked her covers up to her chin in reflex. "We should put bells on that collar of yours."

Sabretooth glowered at her.

"I said your name three times. Get up, we're leaving."

And so she blearily toddled out after him into the chilly November morning.

They had already been on the road for hours when Rogue noticed the black SUV hanging far back behind them. They were being followed, and a glance at Sabretooth confirmed that he knew it as well. The driver kept their distance, and Marie only spied the vehicle from time to time in the rearview.

They were on a lonely stretch of highway with no other cars in sight when Victor swerved onto the shoulder and got out of the truck. No longer under the pretense of remaining unseen, their pursuer floored it.

"What are you doing?!" Marie shouted, wrestling her own seat belt.

"Runnin's the Runt's style, kid. Ain't never been mine," Creed called over his shoulder.

He swaggered out to the middle of the road and waited with arms outstretched and a maniacal grin on his face.

"Note to self: Make friends with people that are less crazy and possibly suicidal."

She finally got the belt free but was too slow and too far away to do anything but watch.

The black SUV plowed into Sabretooth at full speed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sorry for the delay. I had an emergency that derailed my writing plans last week, but it's sorted now. **But far more excitingly:** There is _nearly_ naked Victor fanart for this chapter because when I first had the idea for this fic, I never thought I'd get further than doing drawing or two for it. It can be found on my DeviantArt account (Doodleholic) under the title "Sabretooth Shenanigans." Alternatively, the link is also on my profile (since this site seems to be against links of any sort in the fic itself.)

**Next time:** Chimichanga, Chilaquiles, Enchilada, Maple Syrup?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

><p>Marie hated physics. Back when she took it as a class, anyway. It was so dry and boring, and she felt a modicum of shame every time Scott caught her doodling when she was supposed to be taking notes.<p>

Some of it must have stuck, though, because she knew enough of momentum and collisions to know that what she witnessed _shouldn't_ have happened.

Rather than becoming a gruesome grease spot on the highway, Sabretooth stood unharmed as the vehicle flipped up and over him- He'd _punched_ the damned thing, right in the hood.

The Lexus, or really, _ex_-Lexus after Victor got his hands on it, rolled several times before coming stop with a final, creaking crunch.

Finally pulling herself out of her frazzled daze, Marie got out of the truck and joined the smug Sabretooth.

"You idi- I don't _even,_" Marie started. In the span of a minute, she had gone from worried to pissed, and articulating that to the source of both emotions wasn't quite working for her at the moment. She wasn't even sure _why_ she'd been worried about him in the first place.

_Dammit._

"I told you. I don't run."

"Yes, but-" Marie didn't know 'but what' exactly, and was saved from having to articulate it when Victor scented the air and froze.

"What is it? There ain't another one comin', is there?"

"Worse," Victor grimaced. "Gotta be fucking kiddin' me."

Sabretooth shoved her behind him and turned back toward the crashed vehicle as a spray of gunfire sounded from inside of it. The passenger door was blown off and away from the wreckage.

The gunfire ceased only to be replaced by a high-pitched whizzing sound that got closer and closer. A Whoopee cushion, of all things, landed at their feet.

Followed by an honest to God Power Ranger.

If power rangers carried swords and really, really big guns. Sabretooth tensed in front of her, and if Marie didn't know any better, she'd say Victor looked a little green around the gills.

The Power Ranger spoke, in a chipper tenor.

"¡Hola, señores y señoritas!"

In Spanish.

"¡Soy yo! ¡El único y sólo Cinco Muertes! Oh, no, damn, that's Jurrasic Park. Second one. First one was better, anyway. Hold on- ¡Piscina de La Muerte!"

Very, very bad Spanish. She _had_ paid attention in Spanish class. Or someone she absorbed spoke Spanish, one.

_Doesn't really matter, I guess._

"Your name is swimming pool of death?" Marie asked, peering around Victor's bulk.

"Oh, thank the Comic Book Man! You speak English!" The man jumped spryly, dropping the comically over sized gun and aiming to clasp one of Marie's hands in both his own.

Sabretooth growled and grabbed the man by the throat before he got within two feet of them.

Rogue _knew_ anyone that could hop, guns ablazin', out of a thoroughly wrecked car shouldn't be taken lightly but the red-clad man was a complete goofball.

"Is he for real?"

"You don't know the half of it, kid," Victor muttered. "Why the fuck were you following us, Wilson?"

It figured that Creed would know him.

"O Captain! My Captain!" Came the enthusiastic, albeit garbled, reply.

Victor roughly shoved the man away.

"I've been looking for you for weeks! Anyway, I need a fav-"

"No," Sabretooth growled, his tone brooking no room for argument. But apparently, Mr. Wilson had a death wish.

"C'mon, Vic! It'll be just like old times."

"In that case, _fuck_ no."

Any lingering illusions Marie may have had about Sabretooth being strictly big and bad ass were greatly diminished by his bickering with the Mr. Wilson the Power Ranger. _It was just weird._

Marie rubbed her hands up her arms. Unlike Pennsylvania and New York, it _wasn't_ unseasonably warm here. In fact, it was downright cold.

_Time to expedite this little meeting._

"So you know Victor then, Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh, no, Mr. Wilson was my father. _I'm _Wade. Or Deadpool. And who are you my buxom, southern goddess?"

Wade winked and grinned at her, at least she _thought_ he did. It was hard to tell with the mask.

"Rogue."

Marie got the feeling he would have taken her hand in greeting if a scowling Creed hadn't intercepted him by the throat. Again.

"Okay, okay, I'm not hitting of your girlfriend. Got it. Chill, bro." Then Wade maneuvered in the larger man's grip and slapped Victor on the shoulder in an odd facsimile of camaraderie, "Yeah, we go _way_ back."

As if that were the cue he'd been waiting for, Victor did what Rogue had expected from the start and punched the man. Which was immediately followed by slashing at Wade with his claws.

In a surprising display of dexterity, Deadpool flipped back and away while drawing one of his katana from a scabbard strapped to his back. He waved the weapon around, carelessly.

"Hey, buckarino! Not the suit! I _just _had it dry cleaned."

"Keep taking and I'm gonna cut off your fucking head. And this time it'll be permanent."

Huh, it seemed like every other person was a super healer these days.

"Ho-oh-ld on there Captain Crotchety," Deadpool pointed the katana at Victor's chest, "I come in peace not pieces, and I have some intel you're going to be interested in. Aaaand, the Sundance Kid over there is cold, so, we should move this conversation somewhere warmer and plot moving."

He started walking off in the direction of Victor's truck.

"Well, let's go!" Wade called over his shoulder.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?"

"_You_ busted up my car, Vic. Someone's car. Actually, I borrowed it from this gorgeous blonde when she wasn't looking. But still, my ride. Kablooeyed." As if for emphasis, the ex-Lexus caught fire quite spectacularly. "We should probably get moving before it explodes. I call shotgun!"

"You aren't riding with us!" Victor yelled after the man already buckling himself in.

"We can't just leave him; who knows what he'd tell the cops," Marie reasoned. "But we're wasting time, and it's freezing out here. We can at least hear him out, and if you really wanna, we can ditch him next time we stop."

Marie made her own way toward the truck.

"Can't fucking stand him. The fuck is my life?" Victor grumbled, following suit.

* * *

><p>Marie squeezed into the cab between Wade and Victor. The latter was understandably pissed, and she could tell he blamed her for not letting him leave the mad man. But really it was Victor's own stupid fault for irreparably trashing the other man's ride, though she did think it was a bit strange that the feral gave in so easily.<p>

It was a tight squeeze as neither of them were particularly small men. Well Creed was a giant, and while Deadpool didn't merit giant status, he _was_ tall and fairly stacked.

Rogue felt positively diminutive by comparison, and if she had not been a bit more compact than her traveling companions, well, it would have made for an unpleasant trip. Not that it was likely to be pleasant, anyway.

With their seating arrangement, she would be touching both of them unless she leaned one way or the other. As it was, the gearstick was between he legs, which meant Victor's ginormous arm rested on her thigh when he wasn't actively shifting.

It was awkward. She expected it to be, but Marie sidled up more in Sabretooth's direction anyway –the devil you know and all. The ride was blissfully silent.

For about forty-five seconds. She quickly discovered why Victor had been so keen on leaving Deadpool behind.

"So, you kissed him yet?" Wade nudged her with an elbow.

She felt Victor tense and growl beside her.

"What?" Marie asked at the odd turn in the chatterbox's ramblings.

"Aah, don't worry, it'll definitely happen. Just a word to the less than wise, his tongue is like sandpaper. I should know."

"_What_?" She repeated.

The growling was increasing in volume, and Marie became concerned that the tick under Victor's eye was going to become permanent. She couldn't tell if the man simply had fun nettling Creed or if he was just really that blithely unaware.

"Because I gave him CPR, of course. Or will. I will have had given him CPR some day. Or maybe that was just six-sixteen… Six-one-six. Where are we again? Ten something?"

She doubted that Sabretooth had ever needed CPR, but it was funny mental picture, nonetheless.

"I think if there's tongue involved you're not quite doing it right," Marie replied to the first part of what Wade said, while eyeing the feral beside her speculatively. "But then again…" She trailed off.

Deadpool hmmed in consideration, as Victor flicked on the radio, ending the conversation.

"Oh, this is my jam!"

Wade began singing, loudly.

Victor flicked off the radio.

"Gooood! You're such killjoy, Vic."

An hour later, Marie came to the realization that Wade Wilson did not shut up.

Ever.

Yet with all that talk, he still hadn't elaborated on the intelligence he'd mentioned in order to worm his way into the truck in the first place.

She could feel Victor growing tenser the further they drove along, and so, she absently began rubbing the arm that crossed her lap. Touch like that could get Logan to calm down on occasion, but she had not really put much conscious thought into it. She simply knew if she didn't do _something_, Sabretooth was going to snap and she was going to be in the middle of it.

To her surprise, his tension actually lessened, and Marie swore he started lowly purring.

"We need to get you two kids a room so we can get to the kissy-kissy-bang-"

That was as far as Wade got before ending up with a set of claws raked deeply across his chest and stomach.

In less than a blink, a sword was buried deeply in Victor's side, narrowly missing Marie on its way.

"No fighting in the car, dammit!" Rogue shrieked, "And especially not with me in the _middle_! If you wanna fight, do it somewhere else, or next time, _I'll_ put you _both_ down!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Wade agreed, but then, "_Just_ had it dry cleaned, Vic."

The feral's eyes slid to black as he poised for another attack. Marie placed a hand on his chest. She kept her voice calm and even.

"Hey, now. It's not the time or the place," She had his attention now, and Wade miraculously hushed, so she brought out the big guns and hoped the man wouldn't instigate further.

"_Please_, Victor."

He relented, and thankfully, the ride after that was blissfully silent.

Three hours later, they pulled up to an out of the way gas station slash diner. Marie was used to getting a few stares because of her hair, and she knew Victor was no stranger to attention either if he had his claws out. With the addition of Wade in his bright red, freshly sewn, spandex get up strolling into the building to use the facilities, she was sure they'd be the talk of the town for weeks.

_So much for keeping a low profile._ She just hoped this pit stop was out of the way enough that no one following them would find it. But if Deadpool could track them, she wasn't too optimistic that would be the case.

Marie got out to stretch for a bit. With her and Victor in the cab, it had been cramped but bearable. With three people, the extended ride was all out misery. At least it was warm.

She shivered, teeth chattering, as she ended her stroll and returned to the truck. Nope, her jacket was definitely more cosmetic than functional.

Victor blocked her path, his face set in grim determination.

"Please move?" She tried, in face of her earlier success.

His expression settled into a grimace. Marie didn't have time to wonder what his problem was before he spoke aloud.

"That the only damn coat you got, kid?"

"Yeah. I wasn't planning on runnin' off to God knows where without checkin' in at the mansion first," Rogue huffed.

"It ain't gonna work."

Marie blew her bangs out of her eyes, barely holding back the 'no shit, Sherlock,' that was on the tip of her tongue. No reason to piss off Mr. Kitty even more when Wade was already doing an exceptional job of it.

Her mad money was dwindling, and a coat would put a good dent in it.

"Yeah, I know. If you could please just stop off at the next big-box store you see, I'll get one. I need to pick up a few other things, anyway."

Victor nodded once, and they got back on the road, soon coming upon the most civilization Marie had seen in what felt like ages.

"Whoo hoo! Food court!" Wade exclaimed as Creed pulled into a large parking lot and found a spot close to the entrance.

"Hey, this isn't-" Marie started to complain.

Of course Victor ignored her, and dragged her along beside him once she crawled out from the truck. Not that she could really complain- she did _not_ want to stand out in the icy wind and argue about how he had brought her to a mall rather than the closest chain super store.

"I'll be wherever the empanadas are!" Wade called to them before striding off.

She half expected Victor to turn tail and escape the mall then, having successfully gotten the other man to wander away on his own.

Instead, he headed off toward the opposite wing from the other man.

Marie stopped to examine the mall schematic for an instant before Victor realized she wasn't following. He returned to her side and began tugging her along again. Rogue dug in her heels, refusing to be dragged any further.

"I ain't a rag doll, sugar."

He glowered, but backed off a little. He stalked off in the direction he'd started in, expecting her to follow.

"This way."

Marie sighed knowing that was as good as she was going to get from the man.

"Ass," she muttered, but followed along. Within minutes they stood in the entry way of a boutique with, what Rogue reluctantly admitted to herself, were some damned nice coats.

"I'd really rather go to the closest Walmart, y'know. I'm not spendin'-" She picked up the sleeve of the nearest garment and felt faint at the price tag, "THAT on a coat I'm going to wear on one trip for a few days. I'd rather freeze."

Marie crossed her arms, obstinately.

She didn't know if arguing with him was really the best idea, but what was the worst he would do in a crowed public shopping mall? She was tired and hungry and annoyed; that always made a girl a bit reckless.

"Just pick something out, and I'll get it," He said between clenched teeth.

"So I can owe you even more? No thanks, I don't want your charity," Her nose scrunched up in consideration, "Or loan, or whatever. I'm going back to that department store we passed-"

She was already turning away from him as she said it, but her escape to rasonable-price-land was cut short.

"Do _not_ turn your back on me," Sabretooth growled lowly.

No one was paying them any attention. _Guess I was wrong._ He could totally gut her without causing a scene if he were so inclined.

"You're getting a damned coat, you're getting it here, and you _will _wear it. Now the only question is whether you're picking it out or I am."

She huffed but conceded. Arguing with an obstinate feral was like trying to walk a cat. It wasn't worth fighting over, and she could always figure it out later.

Victor immediately negated the first two she pulled out as not being insulated enough. The third met both her and his approval, and they set off the checkout counter.

As she was picking up the bag with her new coat, Marie spied something red out of the corner of her eye.

The spectacle turned out to be Wade running top speed from a troop of pissed off ninjas.

"Stand back cit-I-zens! Oh good, Victor! You're here! We've got some friends that want-"

Before he could finish his statement, the man was stabbed through the chest- a fact to which he took great offense.

"I was _having_ a conversation," Deadpool said.

He whipped out both of his swords and summarily decapitated the man who had stabbed him.

_Definitely_ not low profile.

There was screaming and running and crowd hysteria building up around them. It was good for the three of them; in the confusion, the trio was able to take out the immediate threat and break free from the crowd that scattered in the opposite direction.

The three ran out an emergency exit, finding themselves miraculously alone. Rogue bent to catch her breath as Victor rounded on the other man.

"The fuck Wilson?!"

"Yeeeaaaah, I meant to tell you about that." Marie swore that he winked conspiratorially at her.

"Bringing down the goddamn Hand on us in the middle of-" Sabretooth's rant died off. He sniffed at the air

The hair at the nape of Marie's neck stood on end as she registered the shadowy presence lunging at Victor. She didn't consider her action before she attacked; years of training and combined instincts urged her into motion as soon as she registered the threat.

But she'd misjudged; there were _two_.

She heard a snap, and then she knew only pain.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Deadpool wrangling is exhausting. I've also been fiddling with a few different Rogan and Victrie one shots, and even though I try to convince myself otherwise, splitting my attention between them slows everything down. I'm hoping to finish at least one of them soonish, though.

**Next Time:** Plans gets derailed, things get exploded, there are pancakes, and then we are returned to our regularly scheduled programming.


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